Marylebone Theatre, til 15 June 2024

⭐⭐

A good cast has to strain to get laughs as this unpolished adaptation wastes its source material.

When reflecting on the virtues or flaws of a play, it can sometimes be difficult to determine whether they derive from the source material or the choices of the director and cast. Some of the greatest plays of all time have been badly bunged up by a poor interpretation – who among us hasn’t seen a dodgy rendition of a Shakespeare masterpiece? The waters are muddied even further when a work has been transposed from one time and place to another, or even translated from another language. Is the poor result the fault of the playwright, or a clumsy adapter?

This is the question I asked myself when watching Patrick Myles’ retelling of The Government Inspector, originally written in 1836 by the revered Russian/Ukranian writer Nikolai Gogol. I must admit I’m not familiar with the source material, so can’t speak personally to its charm (or lack thereof). But given the general love for this play from those who know what they’re talking about (it was named one of the 15 greatest plays of all time by The Telegraph in 2014), I can only assume it’s the adaptation that is responsible for this underwhelming showing. Though there are some undoubted comedic stars here who are trying their best, the play fails by simply not being funny enough; aside from a few key moments, the crowd remained unable to muster up more than a mild ripple of giggles. 

Gogol’s play is first and foremost a comedy of errors, but uses this to present a biting satire: a deceitful young cad (here given the ludicrous moniker Mr Fopdoodle, an English language choice that can only be blamed on Myles) is mistaken for a high-ranking government inspector by the corrupt governors of a provincial village. With the bumpkins scrambling to cover up their mismanagement, Fopdoodle takes full advantage of his mistaken identity, accepting bribes and hospitality and seducing both the wife and daughter of the governor.

All of this sets up The Government Inspector to be a witty political critique, but I think it fails to launch on this front thanks to the uncertain setting of this adaptation. The introduction of strong northern accents and numerous references to London society indicate Myles has made a conscious decision to transplant the story from Russia to England. Indeed, the play is peppered with a few half-hearted attempts to send up Westminster, such as an easy joke about buying a place in the House of Lords. But confusingly, the geographical switch is only half-completed; much of the play’s premise relies on the rigid aristocracy of 19th century Russia, and the many references to the characters’ respective ‘ranks’ (literally numeric ranks, with Fopdoodle only a lowly 14) have not been removed. Similarly, Myles can’t seem to decide what time period the play is set in – in dishonest boasts to his party companions, Fopdoodle describes encounters with both Dickens and Churchill. To top it all off we have the confounding references to an unidentified war abroad, with the obvious but unnoticed spy-in-the-ranks having a Russian accent. I can only conclude that this lack of specificity is all deliberate on Myles’ part, but I think it’s a poor choice as it robs the play of its ability to satirise contemporary government and social structures – a core part of its original appeal. It would have been better to either go the whole hog and set it in modern-day England, or stick to the Russian locale and trust that the audience would be smart enough to understand the modern parallels. 

With the satire effectively toothless, what we’re left with is basically just a farce. Of course, there’s nothing wrong with a farce, if done well – some of this country’s best comedy falls into the genre (Fawlty Towers and The Young Ones jump immediately to mind). But it’s a mistake to presume this type of comedy doesn’t require its own artistry, and this play just doesn’t really nail it. The cast is good – Kiell Smith-Bynoe is believably charming and roguish as Fopdoodle, and Dan Skinner suitably hams up his performance as the governor to match his outlandish moustache (and ridiculous Napoleon costume – another baffling choice). But the performers have to really strain to get every possible drop of humour out of the sub-par script – the whole thing feels effortful, with each pratfall played beyond its worth. It’s not that the play is entirely unfunny – the premise itself is strong enough to generate some comedy – but I think it’s telling that the few big laughs of the night were reserved for the cheapest jokes (we are treated to not one but several references to the dancer Fopdoodle’s “magnificent balls”).

The Government Inspector isn’t offensively bad; it wasn’t difficult to sit through, thanks to the capable cast (and, to be honest, the forgivingly short runtime). But to take one of history’s most beloved satires and turn it into an by-the-numbers slapstick routine, short on proper laughs, just seems like a waste.